Authors: Robyn Miller
THE EXCAVATOR WAS QUIET, THE LIGHTING
subdued. Normally, the idle chatter of young crewmen would have filled the narrow corridor, but since the observers had come there was a strange silence to the craft that made it seem abandoned.
As the young guildsman walked along its length, he glanced about warily. Normally he took such sights for granted, but today he seemed to see it all anew. Here in the front section, just behind the great drill, was the Guild Master’s cabin and, next to it, through a bulkhead that would seal automatically in times of emergency, the chart room. Beyond that, opening out to both right and left of the corridor, was the equipment room.
The excavator was as self-contained as any ship at sea, everything stored, each cupboard and drawer secured against sudden jolts, but here the purpose of the craft was nakedly displayed, the massive rock drills lain neatly in their racks, blast-marble cylinders, protective helmets, and analysis tubes racked like weaponry.
The young guildsman stopped, looking back along the length of the craft. He was a tall, athletic-looking young man with an air of earnestness about him. His dark red jumpsuit fit him comfortably rather than tightly; the broad, black leather tool belt at his waist and his long black leather boots part of the common uniform worn by all the members of the expedition.
His fine black hair was cut short and neat, accentuating his fineboned features, while his eyes were pale but keen. Intelligent, observant eyes.
He passed on, through the crew quarters—the empty bunks stacked three to a side into the curve of the ship’s walls, eighteen bunks in all—and, passing through yet another bulkhead, into the refectory.
Master Jerahl, the ship’s cook, looked up from where he was preparing the evening meal and smiled.
“Ah, Aitrus. Working late again?”
“Yes, Guild Master.”
Jerahl grinned paternally. “Knowing you, you’ll be so engrossed in some experiment, you’ll miss your supper. You want me to bring you something through?”
“Thank you, Guild Master. That would be most welcome.”
“Not at all, Aitrus. It’s good to see such keenness in a young guildsman. I won’t say it to their faces, but some of your fellows think it’s enough to carry out the letter of their instructions and no more. But people notice such things.”
Aitrus smiled.
“Oh, some find me foolish, Aitrus, I know. It’s hard not to overhear things on a tiny ship like this. But I was not always a cook. Or, should I say,
only
a cook. I trained much as you train now, to be a Surveyor—to know the ways of the rock. And much of what I learned remains embedded here in my head. But I wasn’t suited. Or, should I say, I found myself better suited to
this
occupation.”
“You
trained
, Master Jerahl?”
“Of course, Aitrus. You think they would allow me on an expedition like this if I were not a skilled geologist?” Jerahl grinned. “Why, I spent close on twenty years specializing in stress mechanics.”
Aitrus stared at Jerahl a moment, then shook his head. “I did not know.”
“Nor were you expected to. As long as you enjoy the meals I cook, I am content.”
“Of that I’ve no complaints.”
“Then good. Go on through. I shall bring you something in a while.”
Aitrus walked on, past the bathing quarters and the sample store, and on into the tail of the craft. Here the corridor ended with a solid metal door that was always kept closed. Aitrus reached up and pulled down the release handle. At once the door hissed open. He stepped through, then heard it hiss shut behind him.
A single light burned on the wall facing him. In its half-light he could see the work surface that ran flush with the curved walls at waist height, forming an arrowhead. Above and below it, countless tiny cupboards held the equipment and chemicals they used for analysis.
Aitrus went across and, putting his notebook down on the worktop, quickly selected what he would need from various cupboards.
This was his favorite place in the ship. Here he could forget all else and immerse himself in the pure, unalloyed joy of discovery.
Aitrus reached up, flicking his fingernail against the firemarble in the bowl of the lamp, then, in the burgeoning glow, opened his notebook to the page he had been working on.
“AITRUS?”
Aitrus took his eye from the lens and turned, surprised he had not heard the hiss of the door. Jerahl was standing there, holding out a plate to him. The smell of freshly baked
chor bahkh
and
ikhah nijuhets
wafted across, making his mouth water.
Jerahl smiled. “Something interesting?”
Aitrus took the plate and nodded. “You want to see?”
“May I?” Jerahl stepped across and, putting his eye to the lens, studied the sample a moment. When he looked up again there was a query in his eyes.
“Tachylyte, eh? Now why would a young fellow like you be interested in basaltic glass?”
“I’m interested in anything to do with lava flows,” Aitrus answered, his eyes aglow. “It’s what I want to specialize in, ultimately. Volcanism.”
Jerahl smiled as if he understood. “All that heat and pressure, eh? I didn’t realize you were so romantic, Aitrus!”
Aitrus, who had begun to eat the meat-filled roll, paused and looked at Jerahl in surprise. He had heard his fascination called many things by his colleagues, but never “romantic.”
“Oh, yes,” Jerahl went on, “once you have seen how this is formed, nothing will ever again impress half so much! The meeting of superheated rock and ice-chill water—it is a powerful combination. And
this
—this strange translucent matter—is the result.”
Again Jerahl smiled. “Learning to control such power, that is where we D’ni began as a species. That is where our spirit of inquiry was first awoken. So take heart, Aitrus. In this you are a true son of D’ni.”
Aitrus smiled back at the older man. “I am sorry we have not spoken before now, Guild Master. I did not know you knew so much.”
“Oh, I claim to know very little, Aitrus. At least, by comparison with Master Telanis. And while we are talking of the good Guild Master, he was asking for you not long back. I promised him I would feed you, then send you to his cabin.”
Aitrus, who had just lifted the roll to his mouth again, paused. “Master Telanis wants me?”
Jerahl gestured toward the roll. “Once you’ve been fed. Now finish that or I shall feel insulted.”
“Whatever you say, Master!” And, grinning, Aitrus bit deep into the roll.
AITRUS STOPPED BEFORE THE GUILD MASTER’S
cabin and, taking a moment to prepare himself, reached out and rapped upon the door.
The voice from inside was calm and assured. “Come in!”
He slid back the heavy bolt and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. That much was habit. Every door in the craft was a barrier against fire or unwelcome gases. Turning, he saw that Master Telanis was at his desk looking at the latest survey chart. Facing him across the table was Master Geran. Also there were the four Observers who had joined them three days back. Aitrus took a step toward them and bowed.
“You sent for me, Guild Master?”
“I did. But if you would wait a moment, Aitrus, I must first deal with the news Master Geran has brought us.”
Aitrus lowered his head, conscious that the Legislator—the big man, Kedri—was watching him closely.
“So, Geran,” Telanis went on, indicating the bright red line that ran across the chart in front of him, “you recommend that we circumvent this area?”
The blind man nodded. “The fault itself is narrow, admittedly, but the surrounding rock is of low density and likely to collapse. We could cut through it, of course, and shore up on either side, but I’d say there is more to come the other side of that.”
“You know that?” Kedri asked, interrupting the two.
Geran turned his blank, unseeing eyes upon the Legislator and smiled. “I do not
know
it, Master Kedri, but my instinct is that this is the mere root of a much larger igneous intrusion. Part of a volcanic system. Imagine the roots of a tree. So such things are. As excavators, we try hard to avoid such instabilities. We look for hard, intact rock. Rock we have no need to support.”
Kedri looked puzzled at that. “But I thought it was your practice to support everything?”
Telanis answered him. “We do, Guild Master. As I said, we are very thorough. But if it is as Master Geran says—and long experience would tend to bear him out—we would do well to drill sideways a way before continuing our ascent. After all, why go courting trouble?”
“So how long will this …
detour
take?”
Telanis smiled pleasantly. “A week. Maybe two.”
Kedri looked far from pleased, yet he said nothing. Relieved, Telanis looked to Geran once more.
“In the circumstances I approve your recommendation, Master Geran. We shall move back and across. Arrange the survey at once.”
Geran smiled. “I shall do it myself, Guild Master.”
When Geran was gone, Telanis looked across at Aitrus.
“Aitrus, step forward.”
Aitrus crossed the narrow cabin, taking the place Geran had just vacated. “Yes, Guild Master?”
“I want you to place yourself at Guild Master Kedri’s disposal for the next eleven days. I want you to show him how things work and explain to him just what we are doing. And if there’s anything you yourself are uncertain of, you will ask someone who
does
know. Understand me?”
Surprised, Aitrus nodded. “Yes, Guild Master.” Then, hesitantly, “And my experiments, Guild Master?”
Telanis looked to Kedri. “That depends upon Master Kedri. If he permits, I see no reason why you should not continue with them.”
Kedri turned to Aitrus. “Experiments, Guildsman?”
Aitrus looked down, knowing suddenly that he ought not to have mentioned them. “It does not matter, Master.”
“No, Aitrus. I am interested. What experiments are these?”
Aitrus looked up shyly. “I am studying volcanic rocks, Master. I wish to understand all I can about their nature and formation.”
Kedri seemed impressed. “A most worthy task, young Aitrus. Perhaps you would be kind enough to show me these experiments?”
Aitrus looked to Telanis, hoping his Master would somehow get him off the hook, but Telanis was staring at the multilayered chart Geran had given him, flipping from page to page and frowning.
Aitrus met Kedri’s eyes again, noting how keenly the other watched him. “As you wish, Guild Master.”
THE CAVERN IN WHICH THEY RESTED WAS A
perfect sphere, or would have been but for the platform on which the two excavators lay. The craft were long and sinuous, like huge, segmented worms, their tough exteriors kept buffed and polished when they were not burrowing in the rock.
Metal ladders went down beneath the gridwork platform to a second, smaller platform to which the junior members of the expedition had had their quarters temporarily removed to make way for their guests. It was to here, after a long, exhausting day of explanations, that Aitrus returned, long after most of his colleagues had retired.